Meet Me at the Starlight

Chapter 16

HARLOW

She was in the sound booth talking with Nora, the rink’s best DJ, who wanted to know everything—simply everything—about being in a Bon Jovi music video, when Matt found her.

“Was he cool?” Nora perched on her stool, wide-eyed.

“Yeah, he was cool. Really cool.” Harlow turned at Matt’s touch, the morning’s Gazette in hand.

“They ran the story. Not as favorable toward the rink as I’d like, but ... Hey, Nora, how are you?”

“Amazing. I’m breathing the same air as someone who touched Jon Bon Jovi.”

“What?” Matt said, his attention on the article. “I never met Bon Jovi.”

“Not you, McFly.” Nora tapped Matt’s forehead. “I’m cuing up JBJ’s greatest hits for this afternoon’s session.”

“Knock yourself out.” Matt passed the Friday, April 3 Gazette to Harlow. “Rachel wrote the story herself, and by the way it reads, she’s known about the eminent domain strategy for a while. When I talked to her, she acted like the Gazette was neutral, only reporting the news as it came. But clearly this is a well-written, well-researched piece in favor of progress. Which tells me the domain story was in the queue, waiting for the right time, probably alongside the Starlight’s obituary.”

“How long have you been dealing with the press, Matt? Of course she knew.” Harlow reached for his hand. The one with the bruised knuckles. “Have you heard anything from the man you hit? Do you think he’ll file charges?”

“Dale? No. He cares too much what people think. It’s one thing to get punched in a near-empty diner. It’s another to have it appear in the Gazette because he filed charges against a Hollywood star. Against the Lieutenant Striker.”

“You didn’t have to hit him on my account.” Yet his passionate defense of her made her look at him, and even herself, in a new light.

“Yes, I did. I’d do it again, Harlow. Just call my name and—”

“I’ll be there.”

“I would.” Matt said, eyes on the newspaper. “You can count on me.”

There was a catch of emotion in his voice that popped the sound booth’s atmosphere and filled Harlow with a confident warmth.

Nora made a small commotion with a stack of CDs, then hollered toward the door as she rushed out. “What? Spike, you need me?”

Harlow glanced at Matt with a laugh. “She thinks you’re getting mushy.”

“Mushy? Naw, just a guy talking to a girl. His friend.”

“Exactly.” Harlow reached for the newspaper with waves of the shy sixteen-year-old crushing on Logan Howard. “Do you think you should apologize? To Dale?”

She scanned the Gazette’s bold headline: THE STARLIGHT TO GIVE WAY FOR PROGRESS.

“I’ll apologize if he does,” Matt said.

“It never hurts to go first, Matt. Hey, this article says he’s one of the town councilmen.” She looked up. “You might consider going first. He could make trouble for the petition.”

“Maybe, but I’m not the only one who knows he’s a jerk. As for the petition, Mary finally got them posted in the courthouse and the post office. Tyler finished the flyers. I’m going to pick them up.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “See you later.” He paused at the door. “Did I just kiss your forehead?”

“You did.” He was doing it, drawing her in, gaining her trust, making her feel like she was wanted in his world.

“I don’t know why,” he said. “I can’t say habit because I kiss no one that way. Not even Granny.”

“It’s fine. Let’s not make a thing of it.”

“You’re acting weird.” He exhaled. “Are things going to be weird?”

“Just go.” She shooed him out the door. “Get the flyers. Forget it. And, Matt, for the record, I’d be there for you too.”

When he’d gone, she tried to read the article, but she kept reliving that split-second kiss, the warmth of his lips radiating on her skin.

“Are you two a thing?” Nora returned to the sound booth.

“We’re just friends. You didn’t have to pretend Spike needed you.”

“I felt like a third wheel.”

“You weren’t.” Harlow slipped from her stool. “I’m going to open up.”

Afterward, she perched at the ticket desk, skimming the last of the article.

Sea Blue Beach’s founder, Prince Rein Titus Alexander Blue of Lauchtenland, a royal sovereign nation, was born in 1857. After his wife and son died during childbirth, the prince set sail around the world. The 1882 storm off the coast of Cuba sent his yacht into the Gulf, where he lost his crew. He, along with broken pieces of his ship, washed ashore. Prince Blue died a hero on the Somme in 1918.

He lost his wife and child. Founded this great town. Died on the Somme. A hero. And Harry Smith wanted to demolish his legacy. A man like the prince deserved to be remembered. Honored. In that moment, Harlow felt as if her journey and the prince’s, no matter how improbable, landed both of them on these shores for a reason.

One by one, skaters trickled in. Friday afternoon was a fairly busy session, and Tuesday warned her it would be even more so during the summer. Around one thirty, a group of retirees from the Nickle High class reunion of 1920 and 1921 ventured into the Starlight. Tuesday came out from her office and greeted them like family, which Harlow was beginning to understand as the heart of the Starlight.

“I haven’t seen a couple of them in years,” Tuesday said, looking very young in her tan slacks and pale blue blouse, a black bow clipped in her silver hair. “Harriet will be disappointed she missed it. I told her not to move to Melbourne Beach.”

“Who’s Harriet again?” Harlow smiled at the young couple entering, who looked like they needed a break from the sun.

“I forget you’ve not lived here your whole life. Morris and Harriet Nickle used to own your place. Matt may have told you about them. Harriet was my best friend, and her son, Abel, was best friend to my boys. Her grandson Booker was Matt’s best friend. For a while, anyway.” Tuesday’s light faded. “They’ve not talked in years. Sad shame, really.”

“His sister Trinity was my cashier at Biggs. She gave Matt a cool greeting.”

“I’m not surprised.” Tuesday pointed the sunburned couple to the skate room, then picked up the Gazette. “I’ve not seen this yet. Matt said it favors eminent domain.”

“I liked the last paragraph about the town founder. Seems like a fairy tale to think Sea Blue Beach was founded by a real prince.”

“I knew him my whole life, but when my mamaw left me behind, he was my savior. Gave me a job and place to live.” Her voice faded as she remembered. “He left a few months later for the war, and all these years later, I still miss him.”

“So we have to save his Starlight,” Harlow said.

“I knew you’d catch the vision.” Tuesday gave her a knowing smile. “Yet in the end, the prince always said, the life of the rink belonged to Immanuel.”

“The man on the wall?”

“He’s more than a man, Harlow,” Tuesday said. “He’s God with us.”